


where'd you go, david santiago

by subjectiveobjection



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1950s, F/M, Film Noir, film noir-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjectiveobjection/pseuds/subjectiveobjection
Summary: when amy's brother goes missing, she hires private detective jake peralta to find him.this fic was written for @brillliant on tumblr with the prompt "jake and amy adventures written like a dark noir film" (i know barely anything about dark noir but i gave it a shot).





	where'd you go, david santiago

Jake opens the front door of the detective agency and slips in, stepping over the trash bag still on the stoop. “Suppose the garbage truck hasn’t come by,” he says to himself, locking the door. “And why would they? It’s five-frickin’-thirty in the morning.”

“And your business hours are five to nine, if that sign is to be believed,” a voice comes from behind him. Jake jumps about a foot into the air, dropping his bagel on the floor in his rush to get his stun gun. He whips around, aiming at the source of the voice- a woman about four inches shorter than him, with dark hair pulled into a bun, dark eyes, and high cheekbones. She puts her hands up. “Whoa! Don’t shoot!”

Jake lowers the stun gun. “Sorry. But, y’know, when you haven’t had a customer come in this early in two years…”

“You go for a stun gun instead of a real one, apparently,” the woman says.  _ So she knows her guns, _ Jake notes.

“Well, it’s more effective at getting people not to shoot me. Y’know, like, if you’ve got a guy ready to fill you up with lead and you wing him with a bullet, he’ll just get more pissed. But if you stun him, he’ll probably drop.” Jake is somewhat aware that he’s rambling, but he’s running on three hours of sleep and some adrenaline, so it’s not unjustified.

“Smart,” the woman says. She’s not smiling, exactly, but her eyes sparkle a little. “Sorry about your bagel.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I cleaned last week,” Jake says. He picks up the bagel and dusts it off, noting the woman’s politely horrified expression. It’s still a good bagel, though, so the joke’s on her. “So, what brings you here, Miss…?”

She shakes her head slightly, her eyes shifting from his bagel to his face. “Uh, Santiago. Amy Santiago. And I think my brother- well, he might be involved in something to do with heroin dealers.” She pulls out a photo of her brother, a damn handsome young man, and hands it to Jake. “Here, this is him.”

_ It’s always heroin, _ Jake thinks, sighing a little as he takes the photo and studies it.  _ Stupid flower. _ “Okay, well, you’re in luck, because I happen to be an  _ expert _ in drugs. Well, I don’t  _ do _ drugs, but- y’know what? Let me invite you into my office.”

He tucks the photo into his pocket and then leads Santiago out of the waiting room and into his office- he still hasn’t gotten around to selling the furniture in Charles’s, which is fine, because the couch in there is much nicer to sleep on than Jake’s own. He settles into his chair, and Santiago takes a seat in the chair across from him. “So why do you think your brother is tangled up in opium?”

“Well, David’s on the NYPD,” Santiago says, pushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “And he mentioned a few weeks ago that he was going after a big ring of dealers- they supply half the city, apparently. But when I went to his apartment this week, he wasn’t there- doorman said he hadn’t been there in a week. So I went to his precinct, and his boss said he’d gone on vacation.”

“I gotta admit, this is not the case I thought I’d be working,” Jake says. “I mean, when you said heroin dealers…”

“Oh, no, David’s the golden child,” Santiago says, sounding resigned. “‘David’ this, ‘David’ that.”

Jake is somewhat taken aback by the trace of bitterness in her voice. He doesn’t know her, and he doesn’t have the right to judge, but people don’t really come and find a private detective if they don’t like their missing loved ones. They’ll go to the police, sure, but not someone private.

Santiago sighs, as if she’d read his mind. “We haven’t been close since childhood, but he’s still my brother, y’know?”

“Not really. I’m an only child,” Jake says.

“Well, consider yourself better off.”

“Consider myself considered.”

Amy’s mouth ticks up at the corner for a second, and Jake feels a flash of pride. “Well, what can I do to help you find my brother?”

“Did you know anything about the case? Did he tell you anything?” Jake asks.

Amy flashes a glance around the office, and then she reaches into her purse and pulls out a tiny little packet. Jake’s eyes widen. “I found it in his desk,” she says, sliding the packet across Jake’s desk.

“That’s- heroin!” he exclaims.

“Yes, and?”

“You could- you’ve just been carrying it around?” he asks. “You could’ve been arrested!”

Amy fixes him with a level gaze. “All six of my brothers are on the force, Peralta. And while nepotism is not something I find attractive…”

“You could’ve used it to your advantage,” Jake realizes. “Okay. Well. Let’s just-” He grabs the packet, covering his hand with a napkin (What? Fingerprints can be incriminating). It’s got a tiny black eagle printed on the side, and underneath are the words  _ The Land of the Free. _ He almost wants to laugh. “Have you seen this logo anywhere before?”

“No, this is the first time I’m seeing it.”

“Okay,” Jake sighs. “Uh, how involved do you want to be in this? I’m just gonna say, it’s gonna be-”

“If it’s dangerous, then great!” Amy replies. Jake raises his eyebrows- he’s beginning to think that she’s some kind of crazy lady. She obviously can decipher the look on his face (he’s always been sort of an open book, it’s not great in his line of work), and she explains, “The more danger then the more chance I have of getting onto the mantel.” That just makes Jake confused, and it obviously shows, because she shakes her head a little. “It’s complicated.”

…

“You know, when you said  _ dangerous _ yesterday, I didn’t think you meant we were going to a bakery,” Amy says, staring up at a large sign emblazoned with the words  _ Boyle’s Bakery. _

“Well, you never know. There could be people robbing this place at any second because they just  _ knead _ the  _ dough,” _ Peralta replies, brown eyes sparkling. Amy suppresses a laugh.  _ Focus, _ she tells herself. “Seriously. Once we caught three armed robbers attempting to hit a bakery. It was a real  _ sticky situation.” _

“Damn, Peralta! I was gonna use that,” Amy replies, letting her grin break through. “But seriously, why are we here?”

“Because they sell the best coffee and donuts in the city,” Jake replies, holding the door open for her. “Also, I know some people here.”

“Jakey!” a man behind the counter yells. He’s 5’7” or so, with short brown hair and a round face. His eyes are warm, and he practically bounds over. He hugs Jake tightly. “Ahh, I missed your musk.” Amy tilts her head.  _ That’s a little strange. _

“Charles, buddy, that’s not a thing people say,” Jake replies, his grin a little strangled.

“Well, obviously it is, because I just said it.”

“Moving on,” Jake says. “Hi, Genevieve!” he calls to the other person behind the counter, who’s filling orders. She’s about an inch shorter than Charles, with wavy brown hair pulled back into a bun. David had told her to commit each fact about a person’s appearance to memory, just in case she needed to identify them in a lineup.  _ Stupid David doesn’t even  _ need _ a sketch artist. _ “Where’s Rosa?” Jake asks, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“She’s in the back,” Charles replies. “I gotta get back to work, but I’ll put out some coffee and donuts for you when you three are done.”

“Got it,” Jake tells him. “Thanks, bud.”

She and Jake walk towards the back of the bakery, squeezing through groups of customers. The place is  _ packed. _ “How do you know him?” Amy asks.

“He used to be my partner at the agency,” Jake says. “We founded the place together, along with our friend Rosa. They quit to open the bakery, along with Charles’s wife- that’s Genevieve.” He sounds a little wistful. “I’m glad they’re doing well, though,” he adds on, this time a little more grounded. “They’re really  _ rolling in dough.” _

Amy bumps him with her shoulder. “You’ve already used dough,” she says. She wants to say something more-  _ what _ she wants to say, she doesn’t know. She’s always been socially awkward, and how is she supposed to console Peralta in this specific situation? It’s always  _ “sorry your dog died”  _ or  _ “sorry your nephew is in the hospital” _ or something. Not  _ “sorry your partners left your detective agency to start a bakery.” _

Her train of thought derails as Jake pushes open the “Employees Only” door. A woman stands in the back, surrounded by ovens and racks of dough. “Rosa!” Jake yells. She looks up from her kneading for a second and smiles a little.

“Hey, Jake,” she says. Whatever Amy thought a bakery owner named after a flower would look like is  _ wrong. _ Rosa is dressed in tight pants and a wifebeater, with dark makeup that looks like it should be on an actor. Her hair is jet-black and curly, and her right eyebrow has a scar running through it. “Who’s she?”

“I’m Amy Santiago,” Amy says.

“Amy Santiago, can you hand me that pan?” Rosa asks, jabbing her chin at a greased pan on a table by Amy’s side. Amy gives it to her, and she nods her thanks before aggressively yanking off a hunk of dough. “What’re you here for?”

“Can’t I pop in to visit a friend?” Jake asks.

“Never say ‘pop in’ again. And knowing you, this isn’t a social visit,” Rosa says, rolling the dough into a ring and placing it in the pan.

Jake sighs dramatically. “You got me. You know anything about heroin?”

“I know a lot about heroin. What specifically do you want to know?”

Jake looks at Amy and nods. “My brother is on the NYPD,” Amy says. “And I think he got mixed up with some dealers, because he’s been missing for a while. And in his desk, I found-”

“If you’re about to pull out some heroin,  _ don’t,” _ Rosa says. “I don’t want any trace of that shit in my kitchen.”

“How’d you know I was gonna do that?” Amy asks, tucking the packet safely away in her purse again.

“Because that’s exactly the sort of thing that Jake- or anyone associated with police officers- would do,” Rosa replies, putting the pan of donuts into an oven. She dusts off her hands and turns to face them. “Just tell me what the packet looks like. When I used to go for pinks, I saw a lot of that sort of thing going around.”

“Wait, when were you a  _ drag racer?!” _ Jake exclaims.

“I needed to, so I could put myself through nursing school,” Rosa says nonchalantly.

_ “What?!” _

“Peralta, can we get back to the heroin?” Amy asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, we should probably do that,” Jake says. “ _ Nursing school?” _ he mouths to himself. Amy allows herself a brief smile.

“Uh, the packet has a black eagle on it, and it has the words ‘The Land of the Free’ written on it,” Amy tells Rosa.

“Looks printed,” Jake says. “Or this heroin ring might all just have really good handwriting.”

Rosa’s eyebrows furrow. “Haven’t heard of that before,” she says. “But I know someone who might. Come back here after we close up, and we’ll go see her.”

“Great,” Jake says. “It was great seeing you, Rosa.” His smile is earnest, like he’s a puppy dog or something, and it warms Amy’s heart.

“Yeah, get outta here,” Rosa replies, a half-smile on her face. “I’m sure Charles’ll load you down with all the donuts you can stomach.”

Jake and Amy walk back out to the front of the bakery, where Charles hands them each a cup of coffee and a box of donuts. “If you want us to cater the wedding…” he says in a singsong voice.

“What?” Amy asks. “You’re engaged?” She doesn’t know why (or at least, she doesn’t  _ want _ to know why) but her heart twists a little.

“No! Bye, Charles!” Jake says, blushing from the roots of his hair to his collar.

“I’m just saying!” Charles calls as they leave.

Once they’re on the streets, Amy asks, “What was that about?”

“Oh, it’s just… Charles can be weird like that,” Jake says. He takes a huge gulp of his coffee and then sputters. “Oh! Hot!”

Amy laughs and bites into a Boston cream donut- which contains blazing hot filling. “Ow ow ow ow,” she whimpers as she swallows it.

“Karma’s a bitch, eh?” Jake says, laughing.

“Shut up,” Amy replies. “So there’s no girl?” she asks, kind of hating herself for asking.

His blush returns, and suddenly everything in her that’s saying  _ why did you do that why did you ask that you’re so odd _ shuts up. “Nope,” he says. “My last girl… well, I loved her, but then I arrested her boss and the relationship got real cold real quick.”

“Oh,” Amy says. “If it makes you feel any better, my last guy was the most boring man on the face of the earth, and after we split, he saw me in the grocery store and proposed.”

Jake nearly spits out his coffee. “Oh,  _ damn!” _

…

Jake meets Amy at the bakery at 7:47 PM, exactly seventeen minutes after he said he’d be there. She and Rosa are waiting out front, and both of them are chowing down on coffee and donuts. Jake wants to make a crack about cops and donuts, but he’s too winded from sprinting down the block between the agency and the bakery. “So are you just always late?” Amy asks him. In response, he pants.

“Yeah, he is. He’d show up late to his own funeral,” Rosa says.

Amy laughs a little. “Oh, that’s one of my favorite sayings.”

“It can’t be, because I just made it up,” Rosa replies.

Amy looks taken aback, but she must know not to argue with Rosa.  _ Smort. _

“Can I- can I please have some food?” Jake asks, still winded.

“Food is for people who show up on time. Or in her case, show up half an hour early,” Rosa says, jabbing her thumb at Amy.

“Sorry,” Amy says. “I’m just so excited.”

“We’re tracking down a  _ heroin ring,” _ Jake says.

“Yeah! Exciting!”

Jake sighs. “Yeah, I guess tracking down a heroin ring is, technically, exciting. And about the food- c’mon, I ate those donuts in, like, three seconds.”

“You eat way too much sugar,” Rosa tells him. “But fine. Genevieve’s still in there, she’ll give you something to eat.”

Once Jake has his donut and coffee, he exits the bakery and asks, “Where to, o wise one? Let’s agitate us some gravel.”

“We’re taking my motorbike. C’mon,” Rosa says.

“All three of us? That doesn’t seem terribly safe,” Amy replies.

“Well, none of us own a car, and I’m not going to deal with any taxi drivers right now,” Rosa says. “So motorbike it is.”

Jake scarfs down his coffee and donut, and he can’t help but stare at Amy. The moonlight shines off of her dark hair, and when she finishes the last bite of her powdered-sugar donut, some sugar flies up and lands on her nose. “You got some sugar-” he points to his nose and Amy brushes the tip of her own- “yeah, you got it.”

“Thanks,” she says, her grin suddenly a little shy.

“Are you done?” Rosa asks.

Jake grins and turns to face Rosa, and then jumps about a foot in the air. Her helmet makes her look terrifying. She laughs a little and holds out two helmets. “Here, put them on. I’m glad I keep my spares in the bakery.”

“Are we going to be driving that fast?” Amy asks, taking hers with some apprehension.

“It’s New York City, we can’t be driving that fast,” Rosa says. “No, I just wear it so people don’t realize I’m a woman driving a motorcycle.”  _ God, that’s unfair, _ Jake thinks.

Amy points down to her skirt.

“Oh. Well, you should still wear the helmet,” Rosa says. “As long as you’re not driving, and as long as you’re sitting sidesaddle, we should be fine. And if not- Jake, you’re packing, right?”

“Yeah,” Jake says, the weight of the gun suddenly growing. “But- wait, am I gonna have to shoot someone?”

“No,” Rosa says. “Maybe.”

“That doesn’t really inspire confidence, Rosa,” Jake replies.

“Get on the bike,” Rosa says.

They get on the bike, with Rosa driving, Amy sandwiched in the middle, and Jake on the back clinging on for dear life. They don’t drive too fast, but it’s still a terrifying experience, made only marginally better by the fact that he gets to sit very close to Amy. She’s warm, and her hair smells of something vaguely fruity. He suddenly gets what Charles means when he says he missed Jake’s musk (although it’s still very creepy and Jake would literally never say it to anyone). He doesn’t exactly know what to to with his hands, though- does he try to reach around Amy to grab onto Rosa’s shoulders? Does he grab Amy’s far shoulder and cling on? He ends up grabbing onto the seat of the bike, which is a bad idea- when the bike hits a bump, he almost flies off. After that, Amy grabs his hands and places them around her waist. His heart does weird little somersaults, and he prays to God that he doesn’t get a boner or something. Talk about invasion of privacy.

The ride is over too soon and yet not nearly soon enough, and Jake disembarks with a fluttery feeling in his chest that he’s not sure if he likes or not. He follows Rosa’s lead and tucks his helmet under his arm. When Amy takes her helmet off, though, her hair spills out like an inky waterfall, and Jake is entranced.

“Yo. Let’s go,” Rosa says, interrupting his reverie. They walk up to the apartment complex, and Rosa presses a buzzer marked  _ Linetti. _ “Gina? It’s me.” The door buzzes open, and they walk into the elevator at the other end of the lobby. It’s not a fancy place, but it’s definitely not Jake’s apartment.

“Wait, we’re seeing  _ Gina Linetti?” _ Jake asks. “Brown hair, blueish eyes, talks like she’s the best person in the world?”

“Yeah, you know her?”

Jake can’t keep the grin off his face. “We were best friends in school! She moved to California after she graduated, but- wait, what’s she doing back in New York?” The grin is officially off his face. She could’ve looked him up, right?

The elevator dings, and they all spill out. “She showed up here, like, a year ago,” Rosa says. “I met her at a fashion designer’s conference, when she was getting her clothing line set up.”

“Fashion designer’s conference?” Amy asks. “How many lives have you lived, exactly?”

“Just the one,” Rosa says, knocking on a bright red door.

Gina- taller, with less baby fat on her cheeks, with a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, but Gina nonetheless- opens the door. “Rosa, person I don’t know, Jake Peralta. We’ve got ourselves a real party! Come in!”

They step into the apartment, and Jake can barely notice how  _ strange _ it is (clashing prints everywhere, one wall painted lime green, a million other Gina-isms) because his head is clouded in a fog. Gina had been like his sister. He’d written a letter to her just last week. She’d been writing him, too. “So!” he exclaims, forcing an ungodly amount of fake cheer into his voice. “You’re in New York! And you’ve been in New York for a year!”

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Amy giving him a concerned look.  _ It’s fine, _ he thinks.  _ I mean, it’s obviously not, but it’s fine. _ Gina gives him an apologetic look. “Look, Jake, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I got run out of LA because people were catching onto my scam clothing line, and I didn’t want to tell you.”

Jake’s taken aback by her honesty, but this  _ is _ Gina. She says what she thinks. “Your scam clothing line?”

“Yeah, knockoffs and stuff. Anyway, who’s this hot little thing?” Gina asks, turning to face Amy.

“Amy Santiago,” Amy says, sticking out her hand. To Jake’s amusement, she’s faintly pink.

“Oh, I am  _ not _ gonna remember that,” Gina says, pushing down Amy’s outstretched hand. Amy’s eyebrows shoot up, but she retains her professional demeanor. “Okay. What’re you people here for? Not that I’m not happy to see you- jury’s still out on you, Amy, no offense- but Rosa, you never bring people over, so…”

“Do you know anyone who sells heroin with an eagle logo and the words ‘The Land of the Free’ printed on the packets?” Jake asks, doing his best to focus on the case.

“Oh, yeah,” Gina says. “Yeah, I know a mid-level guy in their ring.  _ God, _ he’s annoying. Goes by ‘The Vulture.’”

“I’ve heard of him,” Jake, Amy, and Rosa say in unison.

“He’s a terrible drag racer,” Rosa says.  _ That explains how  _ she _ knows him, _ Jake thinks,  _ but what about Amy? _

“My brothers have busted him a few times,” Amy says.

“Oh, he tried to hire me to get his girl back for him,” Jake adds. “It was  _ definitely _ creepy, so I said no.”

“He tried to hire you under the name  _ ‘The Vulture?’” _ Amy asks, disdain evident in her voice.

“Yeah. I told him to get bent,” Jake says.

“Well, good, ‘cause he’s a heroin dealer. Not street-level, though. I know where he’ll be tonight at ten, so if you wanna question him, you can find him at that old wreck on 54th. They’re having a bash there. He doesn’t go anywhere without his gun, so be careful,” Gina says.

“How do you know all this?” Amy asks, sounding a little bewildered.

“I never reveal my secrets,” Gina replies. “You guys want some coffee or something?”

…

As they leave, Amy bumps her shoulder against Jake’s. He still doesn’t seem all that great- justifiably. “You ready to go catch this bastard?” she asks him, trying to find something that’ll lift his spirits.

He smiles a bit, and Amy counts it as a win. “Born ready.”

They step outside into the cool night, and he tacks on, “Maybe not born ready to ride on the back of that again.”

“You take the middle,” Amy says. “I’ll ride on the back.”

He looks a little taken aback. “No, I just-”

“Seriously,” Amy says, smiling at him.

He smiles back, wider this time. And then Rosa revs up the motorbike, and Jake climbs on and Amy sits on the back, scared out of her damned mind. She puts on the helmet and wraps her arm around Jake’s midriff-  _ he’s like a furnace _ , she thinks- and prays that she doesn’t fall off. Jake is warm and solid, though, and as they speed through the somewhat-less-clogged streets of New York, her heart beats abnormally fast (from her terror or from how close Jake is, she’s not sure). She can’t even curse herself for making such a stupid decision, because the relieved smile on his face had released a zoo’s worth of butterflies in her stomach.

God, she’s spent twelve hours with the man- who eats bagels straight off the floor, who shows up late for everything, who’s basically the antithesis of everything Amy holds dear to her- and she’s thinking up metaphors about zoos and insects.

Rosa screeches to a halt outside the building. “Doesn’t look like much of a party,” Jake says. The crumbling grey facade is cold and stern, and the partially-shattered windows are dark.

“It’s probably in the basement,” Rosa says.

“Smort,” Jake replies. Amy snorts. “Okay, let’s get to it. Ooh, we get to do aliases! I’ll be… Chet Randerson, ex-drag racer-”

“Jake, he’s seen you before,” Rosa says. “Amy’s the only one who gets to have an alias.”

“Okay, well, you’ve gotta make it totally boss,” Jake says. “Something like…”

“A dropout from nursing college who didn’t make it because she spent too much time listening to records,” Amy proposes. Both Jake and Rosa shake their heads. “Who didn’t make it because she spent too much time doing drugs?” she says. This time, they nod.

“Okay, well, what’s your name gonna be?” Jake says. “Ooh, what about Queenie Walters?”

Amy grins at him. His puppy-dog enthusiasm is infection. “Okay. Queenie Walters it is. My life goal is to kill the teacher who caught me shooting up and reported me.”

“Dark!” Jake exclaims, smiling. “I love it!”

“He knows me as Emily Goldfinch,” Rosa says.

“So I’m the only one without an alias?” Jake asks.

“The cruelty of fate,” Amy says sarcastically.

“Right?!” Jake says.

…

Once they’re inside (thanks to an open basement window), it’s so loud Jake can barely hear what he’s thinking.  _ How _ they managed to pump up the volume so much with just a few jukeboxes amazes him. “Stick together,” Rosa says as they work their way through the crowd. Different-colored, dim lights are the only light they have to see by. Rosa’s face is an impenetrable mask, as always, and Amy looks supremely uncomfortable as they squeeze through the throng. Jake catches a strange man leering at Amy, and he discreetly stomps on the man’s foot as he passes.

They search every corner of the place, but it takes an hour before Jake spots him. “Look!” he whispers to the others. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the fink himself?” He jabs his chin in the direction of the Vulture.

“That’s him,” Rosa says grimly. “Let’s go.”

They fight their way over to where the Vulture is standing, trying to chat up a long-legged blonde woman who looks supremely uninterested. “Keith?” Rosa says, plastering on a happy-go-lucky grin that makes Jake’s head hurt.

The Vulture turns around, and the blonde woman slinks away. “Emily?” the Vulture asks. “That you?”

“It’s been so long!” Rosa says. “How have you  _ been?” _

The next few seconds seem to happen in slow motion. The Vulture locks eyes with Jake and draws a gun. Jake draws his stun gun and points it at the Vulture. A shot goes off, and a loud voice yells “NYPD!”  _ Shit, _ Jake thinks.  _ They’re not big fans of PIs. _ Every other person in the crowd starts to flee, except for the four of them.

Two men- one of them absolutely  _ covered _ in muscle, one of them more nondescript but with an intense look on his face- advance, guns drawn. “It’s over, Pembroke,” the muscular one says. “Drop the gun.”

“Jeffords!” the Vulture crows. “You lost some weight!” He turns to the other man. “And Holt! The fa-”

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence,” the older of the pair-  _ must be Holt- _ says. “And who are  _ you?” _ he asks, making eye contact with the three of them. “Are you licensed to carry a stun gun?”

“A  _ stun gun?” _ Rosa says, her tone clipped.

“I’ve got licenses for both!” Jake exclaims. “And I’m carrying both!”

“He’s a  _ private detective,” _ the Vulture sneers, his gun still securely pointed at Jake’s chest. “A bad one, too.”

“Hey, just because I won’t help you be a creep doesn’t mean I’m a bad PI,” Jake says, bridling a little.

“Well, we’re gonna take him in for questioning,” Jeffords says.

“Uh, I was here first,” Jake replies. “Just saying.”

“You were,” the Vulture says. And then, almost faster than Jake can track, the Vulture reaches out and grabs Amy’s arm, pulling her to him and pressing the barrel of the gun to her head. “Amy!” Jake yells, every muscle in his body tensing up. Her eyes are wide, fists clenched.

“Drop the  _ gun, _ Pembroke,” Holt says.

“I’ve got my human shield right here,” the Vulture says. “Why would I?”

“This is going to end badly for you,” Jeffords says.

“It’ll be worse for you,” the Vulture replies. “You’ll have a dead civvie on your hands.”

Jake locks eyes with Amy, and she slowly moves her eyes towards the floor. She holds out three fingers, pressing them against her thigh. Jake nods imperceptibly.  _ Three, two- _ “DUCK!” Jake yells as Amy headbutts the Vulture and crushes his toes under her high heel at the same time, sending a grotesque  _ crunch _ reverberating through the room. As Amy hits the floor, the Vulture stumbles back, nose bleeding, shooting blindly. Jake fires his stun gun, and the Vulture collapses to the floor in a twitching heap. “Amy, you okay?” Jake asks.

“Yeah. Yep.” She sounds a little strained, and when Jake pulls her to her feet, her hand is shaking a little. She exhales and brushes off her skirt, even though there’s no dust on it. “Thanks.”

…

Jake sometimes wonders why he didn’t become a police officer.

Well, he  _ knows _ why- no freedom to choose, being aligned with extreme bigotry, the list goes on- but it really would’ve been a lot easier if he was one. “We’re prepared to cut a deal with the district attorney if you cooperate,” Holt says.

“You can just  _ offer _ that?” Jake asks. Everyone else in the room- and it’s a crowded room, with Rosa, Holt, Jeffords, Amy, and the Vulture all squashed in there with him- turns to glare at him.

“Perk of being a police officer,” Jeffords says.

“Instead of a lame-ass PI,” the Vulture adds.

_ “Mr. Pembroke,” _ Holt says. “I’d recommend that you answer our questions. What can you tell us about this heroin ring?”

“I can tell you to shove it where the sun don’t shine,” the Vulture replies. “I want a white officer.”

Jeffords crushes the pencil he’s holding and lets the pieces fall to the floor, and the Vulture recoils. “Sorry. We’re all you got,” Jeffords says, no apology present in his tone.

“Ask him about my brother,” Amy says, toying nervously with her hair. Jake takes a step closer to her and bumps her shoulder with his own. She looks up at him for a second before turning back to glare at the Vulture.

“Yes. What do you know about David Santiago?” Holt says.

“Well, he’s a real pain in my ass.”

“Pembroke-”

“Cool it, Jeffords! I mean, the dude has nearly busted me, like, five times!” The Vulture scoots back, as far as the chains securing him to the table will allow, and then wrangles his feet out to slam them down on the table. Jake frowns.  _ This guy really doesn’t know anything about Amy’s brother. _

Holt and Jeffords share a glance, and they obviously think the same thing, because they switch tracks. Amy looks at him again, her eyebrows raised, shaking her head slightly. She knows, too. Rosa’s face is as indecipherable as always, but Jake is reasonably confident that she wants to hit the man over the head until he talks. That’s kind of always her wish.

“Tell us what you know about this heroin ring.” Jeffords crosses his muscle-bound arms and scowls.  _ I’ve gotta say, if I was a criminal, I’d confess on the spot, _ Jake thinks idly.  _ That glare has gotta be terrifying to be on the receiving end of. _

“Nope.”

“Oh my  _ God,” _ Rosa groans.

The Vulture looks over at Jake, Rosa, and Amy. “Who let  _ women _ in here?”

Before Jake can say a word, Rosa’s taken three strides towards the table and lifted the Vulture off his chair and into the air by his collar.  _ “Miss Diaz!” _ Holt yells.

Rosa drops him.  _ She should’ve knocked his block off. _ The Vulture slams his hands onto the desk and leans forward. “Look, assholes, you’re not gonna get anything out of me. If I say anything, they’ll send a guy to kill me, and if I don’t say anything, the guy’ll kill  _ you _ people, and I’ll get outta here. That sounds like a better deal than anything your DA could cut me.”

Holt opens a file on the desk and pulls out an 8x10 photograph of a man. “Is this the…  _ guy _ you speak of? Because he told us everything he knew after we picked him up.”

The Vulture pales. “What do you want to know?”

…

Amy listens to the Vulture spill everything about the gang- leaders, size, operations, meeting dates- with a sinking heart. Nothing he says is related to David in any way. She hasn’t told her parents about David’s disappearance- knowing them, they’d find some way to pin it on her. She had hoped to find him before her parents found out, and from the way that this interrogation is going, that hope is becoming increasingly slim.

“I’m going to need you to make a list of all these meetings,” Holt says, pulling a pen out of his pocket and a blank sheet of paper from the file folder-  _ strong tabs on that- _ on the table.

Jake’s eyebrows go up. “Ooh, are we gonna-”

_ “We _ are not going to do  _ anything,” _ Holt says. “This is a police matter.”

“What?” Jake replies.

“Yeah, what?” Amy says. “I hired him-”

“And now we gotta fire him,” Jeffords says. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t an operation for civilians.”

Amy looks down at the list.  _ Joke’s on you, Jeffords, _ she thinks, trying to memorize the page,  _ I can read upside-down writing. _

“Jake’s the one who stunned him,” Rosa says, scowling. “He and Amy are the reason why you managed to bring him in.”

“And we appreciate it, but this is a dangerous situation. We might not even be the officers on the case,” Holt says.

“What?” Jake asks.

“It’s more likely that our captain will take the case himself. And he’s  _ definitely _ not gonna let three civilians- two of whom are women-”  _ of course, _ Amy thinks- “onto a case.”

“I’m done with the list,” the Vulture interjects.

“Shut up,” Rosa tells him.

Holt grabs the list and points the first one out to Jeffords. “Jeffords, do you think-”

“Yeah,” Jeffords says.

“Wait, what?” Jake asks.

“What’s going on?” Rosa queries.

The pieces are starting to click together in Amy’s head, and the last one falls into place once Holt says, “Let’s go.”

The five of them leave the room, with the Vulture protesting behind them, and Amy tugs on Jake and Rosa’s sleeves. They stop and let Holt and Jeffords leave them. “Okay, so the first meeting on the list starts in half an hour, at one AM. So…”

“They’re going without telling anybody,” Jake finishes.

“So we gotta follow them,” Rosa says.

Jake frowns. “They’ll notice a huge black motorbike following them.”

Amy grins. This is what she spent all that time reading her father’s books from across the table for. “I know where they’re going. We can meet them there.”

_ “How?” _ Jake asks. “That list was upside down.”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to read my dad’s books, but he wouldn’t let me, so whenever he read with his book on a table I’d sit across from him and read. I got pretty good at it,” Amy brags.

Jake and Rosa do not seem to think that her story was impressive. “That was great until you explained the backstory,” Rosa says. Amy frowns.

“Well, we know the address, so let’s go!” Jake exclaims. “Wait. Amy, you really are a civilian. Maybe-”

_ Here we go again. _ “I’m the one who got you the address. And I’ll stay outside! On the bike, or wherever! I just-” She pauses, trying to find the words. “If I’m the one to find David, I get the spot on the mantel.”

“You really need to explain this whole ‘mantel’ thing,” Jake says.

“No you don’t. But you convinced me,” Rosa says.

“Yes!” Amy crows. She would do her victory dance, but they really should go if they’re gonna get there early enough.

…

Jake gets to ride in the middle of the bike again, and he’s eternally grateful to Amy for it, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to upchuck everything he’s eaten during the day. Which is just donuts and coffee, now that he thinks about it. They skid to a halt a few buildings past an abandoned warehouse- “What is it with this heroin ring and creepy old abandoned buildings?” he asks, to which he’s sure both Rosa and Amy roll their eyes- and disembark.

“Good luck,” Amy says, tucking her hair behind both her ears at the same time. It’s so cute Jake thinks his heart might burst.

“Thanks,” Rosa says, drawing a pistol from God knows where. “If someone manages to steal my bike then I’ll disembowel you.”

“Thanks, Santiago,” Jake says. “I promise not to disembowel you no matter what you do.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Amy says. She smiles at him and gives an awkward wave. For once in his life, Jake doesn’t know what to say, so he just awkwardly waves back.

“Ya done?” Rosa asks. “They’ve probably started.”

“Yep! Yep, yep!” Jake says. “Let’s go.”

They walk towards the warehouse, sticking to the side of the street, guns drawn. “What’s the plan here, Jake?” Rosa asks.

Honestly, Jake isn’t completely sure. “Uh… stick to the shadows?”

“That’s just  _ fantastic.” _

They come to a door, and Jake jiggles the handle. It’s unlocked, and it leads to a stairwell that looks like it goes up into a walkway. “Well, we’ll… we’ll wait. And then we’ll see if we can corner one of ‘em when they leave and ask about David Santiago,” he whispers. He starts climbing the stairs, wincing as the metal creaks ever so slightly. Behind him, Rosa sighs, but she doesn’t say anything, so he can’t be acting like  _ that _ much of a dumbass.

They come out on top of the walkway, and Jake walks a little ways away from the stairs before lying down in an almost sniper-like position. Rosa follows suit. Far below them-  _ too far to see their faces, _ Jake notes, disappointed- there are three men arguing over the contents of a suitcase. “Aren’t you gonna be late to the bakery? Or at least real tired?” Jake whispers, suddenly feeling a little guilty.

“I know you, and I know what being a PI is like, so I knew to get Charles to give me the day off tomorrow.”

“I hope Amy doesn’t have to do anything tomorrow morning. Or I guess in a few hours.”

Rosa looks over her shoulder at him. “You like her?”

“Well, obviously-”

“You know what I mean.”

Jake swallows. “Maybe? I’m not sure, Rosa, we’ve known each other for, like, a day.”

“Yeah, well-”

“Shhhh. Another guy is coming,” Jake says, grateful for the distraction.

The man- this one dressed sharper than any of the others- strides into the middle of the circle and pushes the suitcase towards one of the three men.  _ Their leader, I guess. _ Another man follows behind him, this one in a ratty leather jacket. The leader motions at the suitcase guy and then at the guy in the leather jacket, and then-

“Hey!” someone yells from farther down on the walkway. Jake’s head snaps towards the noise, but he doesn’t see anyone. “We got a cop!” The men on the floor all look up, and the three who had been there first all flee, leaving the suitcase behind.

Jake looks at Rosa, raising his eyebrows. “We’re obviously not cops.”

“Are we gonna help?”

“We gotta, right?”

Rosa nods at him before standing and launching herself over the railing, dropping to the floor, which must be thirty feet below them. She lands with a graceful roll and starts to sprint, disappearing among the crates that the other men had dispersed among. Confident in her safety, Jake stands and turns his head to look down the dark walkway. He breaks into a sprint, and he hears Holt a second before he sees him. “NYPD! Drop your weapon!” Holt yells. Once the criminal drops his weapon, Holt turns to look at him.  _ “Peralta?” _

“That’s me. How can I help?” Jake asks as Holt cuffs the man.

“We need to get down there.” Holt starts sprinting, and Jake follows him to another door, which leads into a covered staircase. They head down, taking two steps at a time. “I posted Jeffords and a uniform on the back exits, but I’m not sure-”

The two of them burst out of the stairwell in time to see the sharp-dressed man elbow the leather-jacketed man in the face and make a break for it, shoving a door open and disappearing onto the street.  _ “Shit!” _ Leather Jacket- who looks very familiar- yells.

_ “David Santiago?!” _ Jake and Holt exclaims at the same time.

“Wha- go get him!” the elder Santiago exclaims.

Jake takes off after him, but once he exits the warehouse, he can’t see anything.  _ He couldn’t have gone very- _

“Jake!” Amy yells. Jake whips his head towards her, barely able to see in the dark, fear exploding in his chest.  _ What if he’s got her at gunpoint? _ “I got him!”

“Wait,  _ what?” _ Jake exclaims. He jogs over, where the man is collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“Yeah! He was running, and I figured with all the commotion, that couldn’t be good, so I tackled him!” Amy says, beaming. “And his head hit the pavement, and he was out like a light!”

Jake grins back at her. “Holy- Amy, that’s  _ great!” _

“Yeah, so I figure once he wakes up, we can ask him about my brother!”

Jake’s face falls. “Uh, about that…”

Amy’s smile falters, too. “What?”

“I found him. And, uh… he’s kinda-sorta-a-drug-dealer?”

_ “What?” _ Amy asks, looking like someone kicked her.

“Here, just- let’s go back to the warehouse.” Jake squats and hauls the unconscious man’s arm over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Amy.”

She starts walking, her brows furrowed. Jake follows- albeit with some difficulty, given that the man over his shoulder seems to be as heavy as an anvil. “It’s not your fault that my brother’s a drug dealer. It’s just- I never thought he  _ could _ be a one.”

Jake pushes open the warehouse door. “Wait. Why isn’t Santiago in cuffs?” he asks, dragging the man on his shoulders over to where everyone else is standing. The three men who made a break for it and the one who had caught Holt are all cuffed, looking sullen.

“I was undercover,” Santiago explains. “Why is Amy here?”

“I thought you were in danger!” Amy says indignantly. “And you couldn’t bother to tell me? I hired a PI!”

“Hi,” Jake says, waving awkwardly.

“Amy, a PI? Really?” David says. “I’m very touched that you were concerned, but there was no need for that.”

Amy smiles, looking like she’d rather lick a goat’s ass. “Well, if I had known you weren’t in danger, I wouldn’t have bothered. Next time you disappear for a week without any warning, I’ll assume you’re fine.”

“Let’s… focus on the task at hand here,” Jeffords says, looking extremely uncomfortable. “You all did nice work today, even though we told you not to come down here. We’ll put in a good word for you at the station.”

“Aww,” Jake says.

“Now, I want you out of here, and if I see you around here again, I’ll have you hauled off to jail,” Holt says.

“Figured that was coming,” Rosa says. “All right.”

Jake looks at Amy. Her brows are still furrowed, and she looks like she wants to say something.

“Bye, Amy,” David says.

Amy sighs, and her face relaxes. She seems a little resigned. “Bye, David.”

The three of them head out, and Jake fidgets with his fingers as they step into the night air. “Amy, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Amy asks, coming to a stop. Rosa throws a glance at them and walks over to the motorbike.

“Uh…” Jake suddenly wishes the sidewalk would open up and swallow him whole. “Y’know, I think I kinda like you. Uh, romantic-stylez.”

Amy’s eyes snap open. “Jake, we’ve only known each other for about a day…”

Now Jake is  _ praying _ for the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole. “Sorry. I’ll just-”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Amy says softly. “We’ve only known each other for a day, and this is really very unlike me, but I feel the same way.”

Her words slowly hit him, and he starts to grin. “So… can I kiss you?”

In response, Amy slings her arms around his neck and pulls him down to meet her. It’s nothing more than a press of the lips, but Jake thinks his brain might just melt.

And then Rosa revs her bike, and Amy jumps back. “That whole thing was very fifth-grader-esque,” Rosa calls, sounding a little choked up.

“Rosa, you- never mind,” Jake says. He’s still grinning uncontrollably, and he doesn’t think he could stop even if he tried.

“You want the middle seat again?” Amy asks, tentatively slipping her hand into his as they walk to the bike.

“You are a  _ saint.” _

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading! this was a really fun challenge and i hope you enjoyed. kudos/comments are always appreciated :)))


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